Papaya Lies and Vitamin Secrets

Maya felt like a zombie—literally, the kind that shuffles through hallways with dark circles under their eyes, fueled by three hours of sleep and an unholy amount of caffeine. Senior year was supposed to be peak high school experience, not some survival horror game.

"You look like death," said Leo, sliding onto the cafeteria bench beside her. His lunch tray contained the usual mystery meat, except for one thing: a bright orange slice of papaya that looked aggressively out of place.

"Papaya? Really?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you become an exotic fruit connoisseur?"

"My mom's on this health kick," Leo sighed, poking at the fruit. "She's convinced it's some kind of super vitamin that'll fix everything. Like papaya holds the secret to not failing AP Calc."

Maya snorted. She had bigger problems than calculus. For the past week, she'd been carrying around a secret so heavy she could barely bear it: she'd submitted her poetry portfolio to the school literary magazine, and now everyone would know she was that soft, sentimental girl who wrote about feelings and stuff.

The cafeteria doors swung open, and Chloe walked in like she owned the place. As if high school wasn't already a social sphinx—demanding she solve its riddles or get eaten alive—Chloe had to make everything more complicated.

"Hey," Chloe said, dropping into the seat across from them. "Did you guys hear about the coffee shop open mic?"

Maya's stomach did that thing where it tried to exit her body through her throat.

"You should go," Chloe continued, eyes bright with that terrifying sincerity. "I heard you write."

Leo nudged Maya's foot under the table.

She took a breath. "Yeah. Maybe."

"You totally should," Leo said. "I'll be there. Moral support. Plus, I need to witness your legendary status before you're famous."

Maya looked at them—Chloe with her genuine interest, Leo with his stupid papaya and unwavering loyalty. Maybe being a zombie was temporary. Maybe the real monster was the fear of letting people see you.

"Fine," she said. "But only if someone keeps the papaya away from me."

Leo laughed. "Deal."

And for the first time all year, Maya didn't feel so dead inside after all.